


Outta My League

by Dragestil



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Cyborg Genji Shimada, Escort Genji, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:32:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragestil/pseuds/Dragestil
Summary: Genji is a high-end cyborg escort, paid well for his services. When he ends up knocking at the wrong door, what will he do?





	Outta My League

**Author's Note:**

> Done for a request on Tumblr. To see more of my work, request fics of your own, and more please check out my [Tumblr.](http://dragestil.tumblr.com)

Genji glanced at himself in the mirror. The customer had requested business attire, and Genji was happy to oblige. He was wearing a crisp, grey suit with electric green accents along the collar and cuffs and pockets. Underneath the jacket, he wore a wore a white button-up and a thin, emerald tie. He smiled at his reflection and momentarily forgot that the majority of his body was a synthetic reconstruction and what wasn’t was heavily scarred. He still couldn’t understand what person would lust after a life like his. They paid the bills though, so who was he to complain?

Plus he was lucky enough to have his face reconstructed fairly well. There was still scarring, and his jaw was mostly made of metal, but it looked generally like his former self. He’d also managed to grow back his thick, black hair which he kept short and tousled with wax. He was a cyborg success story, a dream result even. So what if he was still paying off the cost?

When he was rescued, an entrepreneuring young doctor decided to test the might of her skills to save what everyone else took for a lost cause. She saved his life, but he was still suffering grave wounds to much of his body. The doctor knew an expert in human physiology as well as robotics could perhaps find a way. She sent out a cry to the media for anyone willing to take on a critical patient with major physical trauma. It didn’t take long for a few individuals and corporations began to seek her out with offers to treat her patient.

Before the doctor could accept anything on her patient’s behalf, he woke up. Genji was lucid, though struggling against the heavy doses of pain-killing sedatives that kept his body from screaming in agony. The doctor decided that if he was capable of communicating, he ought to have a choice in whose hands he would trust his life. Genji had asked to hear a short pitch from each group, one at a time and in private. Their offers varied wildly. It had taken Genji a mere twelve hours to make a decision.

But that was years ago. He had been working on fulfilling his end of the contract ever since he got out of recovery and rehabilitation. His procedures had all been done without payment, but at the price of physical use of his body for a minimum of five years post-op. He wondered what his parents would make of their second son having fallen into the role of an ultra high-end escort. He didn’t mind though. He had accepted the price knowingly when he gave his signature.

His job was frequently tame. He was called up by many nervous and giggling women in their forties just to entertain them for a night showing off his physical form and strength. He hadn’t even been asked to do anything sexual for the first year or so of his contract. When the day finally came, he was largely prepared. He had made friends with some of the other cyborgs contracted to the same company, and they had shared their personal knowledge of the business with him. Now it all seemed as mundane as any other job.

He blinked at his reflection after several long moments of staring and shook his head. He needed to remember not to drift off so far into his thoughts when he had things to do. It was so easy to get lost in recollections and to entirely miss the present moment. He turned from the mirror and headed out of his apartment to his motorcycle parked out front by the curb. He checked his phone for the address and memorised the directions quickly. He hopped on his bike, and it hummed to life.

As he drove through the growing darkness, he went over the details of the client’s request. It was fairly unusual, but not entirely unheard of. He was being ordered by one person to provide service for another person who was not to be aware ahead of time. He was heading for a motel on the outskirts of town. He had been instructed which door to knock on but not given a name. He was told, however, that the occupant was an elderly man and that the motel should be relatively empty otherwise. He was paid surprisingly in advance, a stipulation clause thrown in by management when they realised the man actually receiving the service might flake and cause the purchaser to go back on his purchase.

It took him fifteen minutes to reach the address he had been given. The parking lot was nearly barren, and the windows facing the lot were largely dark with open curtains revealing their lonely interiors. There was, however, one window with the curtains drawn and light peeking through the thin gap between them. He checked the address and glanced at the door number for the occupied room. Oddly, it didn’t match. But there were no lights at all in the room he was given. He decided to take a gamble. Perhaps life had been getting a bit bland. He killed the engine of his motorcycle and flicked off the lights. He walked briskly to the door and knocked.

“Who is it?” he heard gruffly called from somewhere in the room.

Genji didn’t answer, only knocked again. He heard shuffling from behind the door and took a half step back as the sound grew closer. He heard the turning of the lock before the door was pulled open. Genji almost began to speak, but froze when he took in the man standing in the doorway. He was certainly not elderly. In fact, he looked around Genji’s age. He was in a grey t-shirt and black joggers, and his left arm was undeniably a robotic prosthetic.

“Evenin’, sir. Can I help ya?”

“I must have the wrong door,” Genji said quickly, glancing away toward the number plate, even as he already knew it was the wrong address.

“There’s no one else here right now. When I checked in today, the only other occupant was checkin’ out.”

Genji cursed softly under his breath but took a deep breath. He let himself look back to the not unattractive man standing in front of him. He _had_ already been paid, he mused. And when was the last time he got to have any fun for himself? He smiled faintly and ran a hand back through his hair. Perhaps he was finally getting lucky, he thought.

“Well then I’m having suddenly having a very good night.”

“Whatcha mean by that?”

“I was expecting an old guy with a thing for cyborgs.”

“Cyborgs? You’re a-”

“Yep. Beneath this suit, I’m mostly metal.”

“I got lucky with just an arm then,” the man in the door said as he flexed the fingers of his robotic arm.

“I don’t know if any of us are lucky,” Genji replied, “but I’m glad to meet someone else not all flesh. I’m Genji.”

“I’m Jesse, glad to meet you too. Not everyday a cyborg comes knockin’ on your door in a business suit,” Jesse said as he offered a crooked grin. Genji liked the way it shone all the way to his eyes. “But you’ve probably got somewhere else to be, don’tcha?”

“I was already paid; the old guy didn’t even know I was coming.”

“Do you like whiskey?”

“Going right for hard liquor? You are bold, Jesse,” Genji answered, though he was smiling.

“You don’t look all that eager to go, and I’ve got to take a shot when I see one. I did say it wasn’t everyday I run into another cyborg.”

Genji stepped in when Jesse stepped back and opened the door, gesturing inward. To the right of the door was a sitting area with a couch, two chairs, and a  coffee table. To the left was a small kitchen area. Further on the left was a door that led into a bathroom. On the far side of that door, there was a large television on a black cabinet with several shelves in the middle and drawers on the sides. Across from the television was a king-sized bed, still made with an duffel bag sitting on the end.

“What are you doing out here?” Genji asked as he followed Jesse’s lead and took a seat on one of the chairs around the coffee table.

“Just layin’ low for a while. Got myself into a spot of trouble after my last job and figured I’d settle in somewhere for a bit to let it pass.”

“Let me guess - you owe some people something for helping you out and now you’re in an unsavoury line of work.”

“Are we all like this?”

“Everyone I’ve met. But I’ve only met ones from the same program as me.”

“I didn’t have much choice, but I’ve gotta be grateful. Didn’t charge me a dime and got me the best of the best in biomechatronics. They’ve never asked me to do something I didn’t do before anyway.”

Genji nodded as he glanced away from Jesse to the bottle of whiskey in the center of the coffee table between them. He made a gesture toward it and Jesse nodded his head. Genji leaned forward, grabbed it, and took a quick drink straight from the bottle. He swallowed and appreciated the burning sensation as it slid down his throat. He was glad that feeling still remained even after all of his enhancements.

“What about you? You said you were here for an old guy with a thing for cyborgs? That mean you’re a-”

“The professional term is escort. I don’t get paid for sex, even if it happens. I’m paid to keep people company and keep them entertained. Usually the people who hire me are into cyborgs - for obvious reasons.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“If I didn’t take their help, I’d just be stuck in some other program’s hands. They ask for five years but pay me well enough to live however I want and they got the best reconstructive surgeons to work on the human parts left of me to be as much like I was before as possible. Most jobs are routine.”

“I understand.”

The two sat in silence for a few moments. When Genji set the bottle down, Jesse took it and took a drink himself. He considered his situation. He had an incredibly handsome cyborg escort sitting in his motel room and liquid courage in his grasp. He placed the whiskey back down before leaning back and settling his hands on his knees. He met Genji’s gaze and smiled.

“So what exactly do you _do_ , Mr Escort?”

“It depends on what the client asks for. I can do martial arts, pose for photographs or as a live art model. I can keep repressed, anxious businessmen company and listen to their problems until they feel better. I accept most requests for the right price.”

“Say, just hypothetically speakin’ here, someone hired you for someone else and paid in advance, but you ended up - by chance - at a stranger’s place instead. What would you be willin’ to do then?”

“If, hypothetically of course, the stranger was bold enough to ask, he would have quite a lot of freedom.” Genji coolly returned Jesse’s smile and leaned a bit forward in his chair, reaching across the corner of the table toward Jesse. “If I say ‘brother’ you have reached the limit of what I will do.”

“Gotcha,” Jesse replied with a nod as he grasped Genji’s hand and shook it firmly. “Why don’t we start with you slippin’ outta that suit. This whole ‘mostly metal’ thing has me intrigued. I hope you don’t mind givin’ me a peek at what you’re workin’ with.”

Genji’s expression smoothens as he slips easily into his professional role. He’d always hungered for attention, and he was always ready to put on a show. He stood between the coffee table and the window, facing Jesse where he sat on the couch. He unbuttoned his suit jacket casually and slipped it from his shoulders before draping it across the coffee table in front of him.

He worked his nimble fingers into the knot of his tie and loosened it. He left it hanging undone around his neck as he started to work on the buttons at the top of his shirt’s collar. He worked his way steadily downward. As the shirt parted, his chest and torso were revealed bit by bit. The left side was scarred, but largely still flesh. The right side, however, was sleek and metallic. The metal plates extended diagonally from his right collarbone down to the second or third rib on his left side. Only occasionally did the plates part to reveal skin.

Jesse’s mouth hung slightly agape. He had never seen someone with so much of their body replaced. As Genji finally let the shirt slip off his shoulders, Jesse realised that, from what he could see, even the seemingly human left arm still had robotic enhancements. He couldn’t even fathom the sort of person who would be able to survive the procedure to have so much done - let alone to have survived whatever caused all the damage in the first place.

“Pants as well?” Genji asked, one hand already reaching for his belt. “Jesse?” he added when Jesse hadn’t moved after a few seconds.

“Shit, yeah - I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Genji didn’t mind. He was well-accustomed to being stared at. It was hard for someone like him to blend in. He undid his belt and the button at the top of his trousers. He toed off his black dress shoes as he unzipped his pants, sliding them down and off before adding them to the pile of clothes now sitting on the coffee table. He stood before Jesse in nothing more than green boxers, all the rest of his robotic body on display.

“Gruesome, isn’t it? Inhuman.”

Jesse still didn’t speak yet, studying every inch of what he could see of Genji’s form. He admired the fine details that made his robotic parts seem more natural and the amount of effort it must have taken to design and craft such extensive and interconnected parts. Eventually he looked up to catch Genji’s gaze, and he shook his head.

“It’s incredible. Makes my arm look like a prototype or something. And how do you even control it all? It took me months and months just to make a fist and I was only missin’ an arm. You had to-”

“To learn everything again. They had me in intensive rehabilitation from the moment I was conscious enough to try.”

“And you did all that knowing you’d be selling yourself as soon as they considered you rehabilitated enough to work?”

“They gave me a second chance at life. There aren’t many prospects for cyborgs. Not everyone trusts us. If I can make good money using what they’ve given me, that’s a fair trade.”

Jesse let out a low whistle. Maybe the whiskey had gone straight to his head, but Genji seemed more attractive to him by the minute. He was obviously strong and capable to survive such extensive augmentation, and he was handsome, too, even with his scars. He took a deep breath and ran a hand back through his messy hair.

“You’re so far outta my league,” he mused with a disbelieving grin.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Genji answered, stepping around the edge of the table. He leaned down a bit to hook a finger beneath Jesse’s chin, tilting it up so their eyes were locked. “So are you going to kiss me or not?”


End file.
